


Untouched

by blissed_bess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming Untouched, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissed_bess/pseuds/blissed_bess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam comes, untouched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untouched

**Author's Note:**

> Something quick and dirty written for [spn-masquerade: The Beggars Banquet](http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com), for the prompt of Sam/Dean, slow fucking, bottom!Sam, coming untouched

**Untouched**

 

Sam holds his breath, dares not move. Moist warmth of his brother's tongue trailing slowly, slowly down. Down where it's never been before, silky saliva smearing slow, slow circles on his skin. Tiny, shivery, little breaths, please don't let Dean hear them, don't disturb him, don't startle him, don't fucking stop. Closer now, tongue and lips and scant scrape of teeth, sliding closer, so close, skin so sensitive, so fucking _awake_ to his brother's every touch, fucking _caressed_ by the exhalation of his brother's breath.

He's concentrating so hard on yearning and willing and fucking _making_ Dean go there, face mashed in the harsh cotton on the hotel pillows, elbows and knees scrunched down into the cheap thin mattress, arse high in open invitation, and he's hoping and wishing and _begging_ for Dean to go there.

Sam's groan when Dean slips his tongue over and round and _in_ is so guttural, ripped from his throat, harsher than a sigh, deeper than a moan, hurting and painful. He's straining for air that he can't replace, all feeble attempts at stealth now lost, lost to his sounds, sounds betraying him, revealing his exquisite pleasure in all his imperfect cadences, exposing his demanding need in all his modulated tones. 

He says, fuck yeah, when his brother licks him like a frozen popsicle, sucks him like a melting ice-cream, eats him like a cherry pie. He says, Dean, Dean, fuck, there, don't, don't, fuck, yeah, there, when his brother probes and pushes and fucking _enters_ him, inside him, opening him, fucking preparing him.

Like this, he asks, mmm-hmm, Dean says moving up and kissing along his back, suckling little presses on his thoracic spinous processes and Sam's wishing he had more of them, more for his brother to mouth and swirl his tongue round and rub his spikey-whiskered chin over. C'mon, he whines, need you, fucking need you now. Now, and he's pushing up his ass, imagines his hole is huge and gaping and yawing, calling and luring and compelling his brother's cock home.

Thank fuck, as he's filled, and his brother's cock is huge and hot and throbbing, and it's bigger than that porn star's, and it's more than he can take, and it's filling him unrelentingly, and he moves 'cos he wants it, wants it _so fucking much_ , give it to me, Dean, now, more, yeah, yeah, fuck, and he moves, fast, 'cos he wants it quick and dirty, sets the pace. Fast and furious. Now, fucking now, Dean, c'mon.

And he's smacked like he's never been smacked by his dad, and Dean's saying, slow down, baby boy, got all night, take it easy Sammy, easy, just let your big brother ride. And he's gentled by his brother's touch, stroked and soothed, when he wants to be rushed by his brother's urgency, rough and rugged. And he's rocked in the cradle of his brother's arms and hips, rocked unhurriedly, kisses whispering on his neck.

Gonna, gonna, c'mon Dean, wanna, wanna, but he's toyed with, teased and taunted, gently and with care. Not yet, Sammy, and his peaked nipples get pinched then soothed then fondled and rubbed and rolled and gonna, Dean, please, please, then pinched to pain again, don't touch, Sammy, not yet, not yet. He's sweaty and steamy and _trembling_ with the strain, slowly, slowly, brother draping his back, rhythmic slide of his brother's cock, breath of his brother on his neck.

Kiss me, says Dean, and they shuffle about a bit, moving just right, and he's leaning back and Dean's kissing him deep and sure and there's so much, so _fucking much_ , and he closes his eyes, and lets go his need, and loses himself in his kissing of his brother. He wants to be brave, wants to be worthy, wants to be deserving, finds himself murmuring instead, missed you, Dean, missed you so fucking much, and his brother's right there, whispering, I'm back, Sammy, never gonna leave you again, and they surge higher still, merging with kisses, hot and messy and tongue-filled. He moans into his brother's mouth, high-pitched, whiney, needy, don't worry baby boy, I'll get you there, I've got you, and he closes his eyes, face scrunching in reflexive emotion, eyes watering, body shuddering in oversensitivity, and he comes, on a gasp of surprise, then a grunt of release, then moans of rolling pleasure. 

Dean's saying, what the fuck, Sammy, what the fuck was that, and pounds into him, chasing his own release. Then it's all, I'm freakin' awesome, Dean's saying, look what I made you do, no hands, Sammy, no hands, first time? first time you ever done that? hell, yeah, I am made of win. And Sam wants to say I love you, too, don't ever leave me like that again, and says fuck you, you slacker, you gonna have to work harder next time round, and imagines Dean says, never, Sammy, never ever letting you go, and smiles when Dean says, ok.

fin


End file.
